


Øjesten, I was always yours.

by AaliyahManira



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Gay Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Mind the Rating, Oral Sex, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, boys being stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AaliyahManira/pseuds/AaliyahManira
Summary: A soulmate AU, where Freddie and Auston are stupid before they finally manage to get their shit together.
Relationships: Frederik Andersen/Auston Matthews
Comments: 17
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really write authors notes, but here we go. Mind the rating, it's there for a reason. It's going to get more and more explicit as we go. There's going to be angst. And, knowing me, there's probably going to be kink. If that isn't your thing, feel free to excuse yourself. If I need to add any tags, let me know. This happened because Auston got a hat trick and Freddie is a beautiful human being and I am weak.
> 
> If I decide to switch up perspectives, I'll title the chapters accordingly.

Freddie was four the first time he dreamed about his soulmate. Or, well, he was four the first time he _remembers_ dreaming about his soulmate.

The dreams at that age were simple and safe. Freddie didn’t even know they were soulmate dreams until he was thirteen and had to see a sports psychologist for the first time. Until the man—he was kind, but Freddie could never remember his name, no matter how hard he tried—raised an eyebrow and stopped writing to lean forward onto his elbows, Freddie thought it was completely normal to have dreams about the same person night after night.

Freddie called his soulmate øjesten when they met in his dreams. It was never a conscious decision—another thing he never really found strange—just a universal identifier for the boy with the dark eyes and shiny hair. It was the same in every dream, no matter what else changed, and Freddie was seven when he learned what it meant. He smiled every time he heard it, the boy, like he couldn’t help it. _Min øjesten_ , Freddie’s voice would say, and the boy would turn his face up and smile so big it lit up his eyes.

The first dream—memory—that Freddie can remember having is also the one that he loves the most. It’s from a lifetime when he and his boy met as children—something he envies the older he gets—and they’re sitting on the floor in a bedroom that could belong to either of them, just talking. It’s mundane, as far as dreams go, with none of the shenanigans that boys generally get into, but it’s Freddie’s favourite. As he gets older, he comes to the realization that it’s some kind of boarding school and he memorizes every word either of them says in it. The boy spends the first few minutes of the dream sitting at Frederik’s side, little legs stretched out in front of him and feet wiggling while he talks. It’s a few minutes in that the boy yawns and Freddie hears his own voice. He doesn’t recognize the fondness in it until he’s older, but that’s okay.

_“Øjesten, kom her,” he hears himself say. The boy doesn’t even stop talking, just sort of tips himself sideways so that he can put his head on Freddie’s thigh and curl up on his side. The boy doesn’t stop talking after that, but he doesn’t move either. The clock on the wall above them ticks away several hours sometimes, but still Freddie sits on the ground and listens to the boy talk. Even as an adult, Freddie always wakes up before he finds out how many hours it takes for him to drift off._

Freddie makes it to the NHL without being outed and without having to tell anyone but his parents about the boy he sees in his dreams. Soulmates aren’t tracked or recorded, but they the number one subject of interest for every famous person and they always have been. Freddie hopes that no one ever finds out about the boy with the big eyes and the bright smile, but only with half of his heart. With the other half, he hopes that everyone finds out, because it will mean he found him and he wants nothing as much as he wants that.

The dreams don’t stop on draft day—the first one or the second—and Freddie is strangely relieved, even though his mother had told him a thousand times that it was a silly thing to worry about. What Freddie isn’t prepared for—the only thing that Freddie isn’t prepared for about the NHL—is that his dreams increase in frequency and start to feel more real. The same thing happened when he hit puberty, the dreams shifted from long conversations and comforting time spent watching movies or making dinner to stolen kisses and then to things more intense. He woke every day that first year with the sound of his boy gasping still ringing in his ears and the tenderness of their kisses on his mouth. He never told anyone when they changed and he never complained once about having to wake up a few minutes earlier to have time to get off before he had to get dressed. This shift is like that one, but more intense.

The night after he’s drafted the second time, Freddie dreams about making love to his sweet boy for the first time and wakes up with a soft pink mark on his neck. He knows exactly what it’s from and when he sees it in the mirror, he presses his fingers into it and closes his eyes so he can remember the feeling of his boy’s legs wrapping tight around his waist and pulling him deeper. He’s late to everything he’s supposed to do that week, because it takes him two orgasms every morning and after every nap to sate the hunger that lives low in his belly.

Nothing else changes until the trade. Freddie looks for his soulmate in every bar and every stadium, but he never finds him and he never stops day dreaming about how his laugh fills the inside of his head when he dreams. When he’s traded to Toronto, Freddie feels like something is different, feels like there’s a thrumming current under his skin twenty-four hours a day. The first night he spends in Toronto, he starts dreaming before his eyes are fully closed.

_“Please,” his boy begs, fingers tangling in the sheets and pulling until they pop off of the corner of the bed. They’re in a hotel room, or some kind of villa with a view of the water, and they have the doors open so the night breeze can blow through. Freddie’s behind him when the dream starts and it’s one he’s never had before, so he doesn’t know why his face it tingling until he feels the wetness around his hole._

_“Please what, Øjesten? Tell me what you need,” he hears himself say. He’s never been with another person before, never heard how his own voice sounds like this, so it takes him a second to realize that it’s him. The boy clenches down on his fingers when he presses them in and arches his back so beautifully Freddie feels both his dream self and his real self nearly lose it. He wakes up when the boy comes for the third time, back arched and body taught as Freddie wrings a scream out of him before he collapses._

“Fuck,” is the first thing Freddie says when he opens his eyes, and it’s the first time he hears the hoarseness of his voice with his own ears. He barely has the mental capacity to kick the blankets off before he gets a hand on himself and comes, ‘Øjesten’ on the tip of his tongue as he stripes his own stomach.

Auston Matthews is the talk of the dressing room when the season starts and Freddie hates him a little bit immediately. He’s seen tape, knows the kid can play and knows that he’ll be good for the franchise, but he hates him for being so good and hates that he’ll have to put up with his ego and his cockiness while he’s trying to adjust to a new coaching system and a new city. He knows it isn’t fair and every time he catches himself being bitter, he reminds himself that he doesn’t know him, that he’s never even seen him in an interview and that he should give him a chance.

He has to remind himself that often over the course of the first few days of camp and he’s grateful in an ugly way when Matthews’ passport causes him to arrive late.

When Auston finally steps onto Toronto ice for the first time, Freddie is one hundred feet away and too focused on the drill they’re running to actually pay much attention to him.

In hindsight, Freddie thinks it’s probably a good thing, because if he had looked up and seen Auston’s face—his boy’s face—he would have missed the shot, fallen on his ass, and forgotten how to speak English all at once. And that, well, that wasn’t exactly the impression he wanted to make on his new team.

It isn’t until they’re almost done for the day that Freddie realises who he is, and even then, it’s not because he’s paying any attention to him. In fact, he’s talking Mac and in the middle of a drink when it hits him. Mitch says something Freddie can’t hear and it makes Auston laugh. Freddie would know that laugh anywhere and it’s like a punch to the stomach when it washes over him. He grips the boards and closes his eyes so he can get control over his breathing and the way his blood is roaring in his ears. Curtis says his name half a dozen times before he’s recovered enough to hear it, then throws his hands up in frustration when Freddie skates away without saying anything back. His mask is already off, but he spends the few strides it takes him to reach Auston and Mitch with his head down, trying to make less of a mess of his hair.

“Hey, Matthews. Nice to meet you, I’m Freddie,” he says when he’s close enough. He remembers to raise his head before he speaks and is proud of himself for sounding relatively normal. Auston doesn’t look at him for a second and when he does, hand already reaching out to shake Freddie’s, he lets out an undignified squeak and slides off of the boards so abruptly he nearly loses his footing and falls to the ice.

“Dude, what’s your deal?” Mitch says, managing to catch Auston by the arm and keep him from falling down. It takes another second, but Auston recovers and plasters a smile on his face.

“Nothing man, wasn’t expecting to be face to face with a legend,” Auston says, all false bravado as he shakes Freddie’s hand. Freddie thinks it’s probably unfair to use lifetimes of knowledge to read him, but he can’t help it. He knows Auston is scared half to death and it feels like he’s been dropped into an ice bath with his gear still on when he realizes that it’s his fault.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie is too smart to be this dumb.

_“You can kiss me if you want, you know,” Auston says, his head tilted back so that he can see Freddie’s face. The lights on his Christmas tree shift and dance across Auston’s jaw and Freddie watched him for far longer than he should before he actually processes the words. They’re barely sixteen in this life, but they both know this isn’t the first or the fifth that they’ve spent together._

_“I’m afraid that might be a bad idea,” Freddie hears himself say, fingers twitching until he lets himself reach out and take hold of Auston’s hand, “because if I kiss you once, I’m not going to want to stop.”_

_“So don’t,” Auston says, cocky and confident and beautiful in the dancing lights. Freddie hears himself make a wounded sound and Auston takes a small step forward, daring him to do it and tilting his head back to demand it. He knows he’s going to get it, Freddie can see the surety in his eyes and his heart lurches against his ribs._

_“I love you,” Freddie breathes, closing the distance between them and dipping his head so that he can press their mouths together. Auston opens up so beautifully that Freddie feels like he’s going to hyperventilate, and he can’t stop his hands from slipping under Auston’s sweatshirt to rest on the warm skin of his waist. He tries to pull back for a breath three times before he manages it, Auston chasing his mouth each time and holding him there._

_“I know,” Auston says, his mouth red and swollen from their kisses. He still looks smug and Freddie can’t resist the urge to kiss him again_.

Freddie wakes up slowly, like he’s coming to one muscle at a time, but he doesn’t open his eyes for fear of losing the smell of Auston and the feeling of his skin under his hands. Freddie isn’t sure when the boy in his dreams—his memories—stopped being nameless and started being Auston, but he can’t make himself stop thinking of him that way, no matter how heavy it makes his heart feel.

“Alright you dumbass, stop pining and get up,” Freddie says to his empty bedroom, letting out a dramatic groan as he drags himself out of bed.

Auston scores four times in his debut, because _of course_ he does, and Freddie would be lying if he said that he wasn’t incredibly proud. The anger he feels at himself—that he always feels at himself after a loss—is there, buzzing right under his skin, but he hardly feels it over the rush of pride he feels for Auston.

“You did so good, Øjesten,” Freddie says when it’s his turn to congratulate Auston. He doesn’t realise what he’s said until it’s too late to take it back and he doesn’t miss the way Auston’s face twists. Freddie changes back into his suit as fast as humanly possible, because the only thing he can do to avoid staring at Auston is keep himself busy.

“Go away,” Freddie shouts at the door to his hotel room. He’s stretched out on his bed in his boxers flipping through channels because he isn’t tired enough to sleep and has no desire to be disturbed.

“Please open the door,” is the response that comes a few seconds later and it’s so soft that Freddie’s heart stutters against his ribs. He mutes the TV and gets out of bed, grabbing his sweats and pulling them on as he heads for the door. He’s reaching for the know when he hears Auston’s forehead thud against it, “please?”

“Come in,” Freddie says as he opens the door, holding his arm out to catch Auston when he stumbles and closing the door to buy himself time before he has to face him.

“You called me Øjesten,” Auston says before Freddie has even had a chance to turn around. He doesn’t sound mad, just tired, and Freddie takes a deep breath before he turns around to look at him.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” Freddie says, staring at Auston’s ear so he won’t have to meet his eyes.

“Don’t… I… What does it mean? I’ve never been able to spell it and I don’t know what it means,” Auston says, shifting his weight and rubbing his thighs with both hands. Freddie gives him a once over and forces himself to look at his face before he answers. His presence makes infinitely more sense when he realises that Auston is tipsy.

“It’s a term of endearment in Danish. It’s… It’s the only thing I knew you by before training camp and it just slipped out,” Freddie says, hoping that it’s just enough of an answer that Auston won’t push it.

“You have them too,” Auston says, “the dreams.”

“Every time I close my eyes,” Freddie says, blowing all of the breath out of his lungs and letting himself be vulnerable for a second. Something heavy flashes across Auston’s face and Freddie doesn’t have time to identify it before he’s bolting out of the hotel room. Freddie stands perfectly still in the middle of the room for a few minutes before he has the mental capacity to move, then he goes to the door, locks it, and lays back down on his bed. Suddenly, sleep is the only thing he wants.

_“Øjesten?” Freddie hears himself call. The house he’s in is unfamiliar, not from any of the other memories, but he drops the briefcase he’s holding and tosses his keys onto the table. He looks frantic, even to himself, and he calls for Auston all the way through the house, growing increasingly more disheveled with every place he doesn’t find him._

_“I’m out here,” Auston calls finally, just as Freddie’s on the verge of full-blown panic. He spins in a circle before his eyes find Auston, standing with his back to the door and cast mostly in shadow by the lights of the house. Freddie’s whole body goes slack when he sees Auston and sees that he’s okay, but it doesn’t last long, because when he turns around, there’s a small bundle of blankets cradled against his chest._

_“You called me twenty-three times,” Freddie says stupidly, walking out into their yard without giving his body permission to move, like Auston and the baby are pulling him into their orbit._

_“I knew you were in court all day and I knew I would worry you but I couldn’t help myself,” Auston said, sheepish. Freddie feels his heart skip and accelerate to match how fast it’s beating in his dream and has to fight the urge to wake up. The dream fades a little while Freddie makes himself relax and he blows out a sigh of relief when it reforms and his daughter’s face comes into view._

_“I wish I’d known, Øjesten… I would have found a way to be there,” Freddie says, staring at her little face and reaching out to stroke her cheek with the back of one of his fingers._

_“It’s okay. We knew Daddy would come home to us eventually, we weren’t going anywhere," Auston says, his voice incredibly soft and fond, "I was so excited for you to meet her."_

Freddie wakes up all at once, panting and shaking with his entire body. He doesn’t register the pounding on his door until the roaring in his ears dies down and he only gets up to answer it to tell whoever is on the other side to fuck off. He barely has the door open when Auston barrels through the door and throws his arms around him, face red and steaked with tears.

“Did you… Did you have that dream to?” Freddie manages to make himself ask after a minute. His arms come up around Auston without his permission and he fits so well that he can’t help but indulge himself for as long as Auston will let him. Auston nods and sobs against Freddie’s shoulder, hiccupping when Freddie stroked his hair and kisses his temple.

“Can I stay here? Just for tonight? I promise I’ll leave in the morning and I won’t bother you, I just can’t… I don’t think I can be alone. I don't think I can be away from you,” Auston asks, sounding completely miserable and clinging to Freddie desperately.

“Of course you can stay, Øjesten. Do you want to come all the way in?”

How they go from standing just inside the door to laying on Freddie’s bed is something of a mystery. Freddie knows, in a mechanical sense, that there was walking and moving involved, but he couldn’t tell anyone how he ended up with Auston laying on his side in front of him or when his arm slid around his waist to pull him in close enough that he could smell his shampoo. It happened, and Auston was still sound asleep when Freddie woke up the next day and that in and of itself felt like a small miracle. Freddie pressed a soft kiss to the back of Auston’s neck and held him tight until he felt him start to stir, then dragged himself out of bed to eliminate any awkwardness.

When he came back from the bathroom, Auston was gone and the way his heart sank should have been predictable. It wasn't.


	3. Chapter 3

“You have to talk to him,” Mitch said, slipping his stupidly thin body between the elevator doors just before they closed and yanking Freddie’s earbuds out of his ears with such force that it nearly hurt.

“Excuse me?” Freddie asks, part legitimate uncertainty and part just offended. Mitch rolled his eyes and hit the emergency stop button on the elevator. The car lurched to a stop and Mitch folded his arms over his chest like he thought that made him look less like an infant. Freddie desperately hoped that there were no alarms going off anywhere in the hotel and that the fire department wasn’t going to come try and rescue them while Mitch was being difficult.

“You. Need. To talk. To Auston,” Mitch repeats, looking at Freddie like he’s an idiot and raising an eyebrow like he thinks he’s intimidating.

“I have nothing to say to Auston,” Freddie says bitterly, the sourness of finding Auston gone, of seeing him scared, and of not being able to be in the same room with him without being uncomfortable heavy on the back of his tongue. It was a lie. It was a **lie** but he can’t tell Mitch that Auston is his soulmate, or that he feels like he’s drowning every time he’s in the same room as him and not able to go to him and wrap him up in a hug and tell him how beautiful he is. He can’t tell Mitch how much he loves their stupid American with his stupid forehead, so instead he says nothing at all and lets the lie stand.

“The sad part about that isn’t even that you’re lying. It’s that you believe it and he’s miserable because you can’t get your head out of you asshole,” Mitch says. Pushing the button to restart the elevator and getting out as soon as the doors open. Freddie isn’t even sure if it’s his floor, so he’s not sure where he’s going. He doesn’t care enough to think about it after the doors close and rides to his floor without moving.

_“Freddie, fuck!” Auston moans, arching prettily up off of the bed and yanking at the sheets just to have something to do with his hands. Freddie’s never heard the boy in his dreams say his name before, or any name, and it catches him by surprise. In this memory, Auston looks kind of like he does in the lifetime they’re in. He’s broad and tanned and beautiful and Freddie’s laying on his belly between Auston’s legs when the memory starts. Freddie never gave much thought to how he knew the boy was the same from dream to dream, but the second the idea pops into his head, Auston fucks up into his mouth and he loses his train of thought._

_“I don’t want you to come like this, Øjesten,” Freddie hears himself say. His voice is fucked from having Auston’s cock down his throat and he feels himself moan in his sleep at the way he sounds. Auston whimpers and pouts, visibly upset at the loss of the warm wetness around his cock._

_“Freddie, no, please,” Auston begs, reaching for Freddie’s hair and raising his hips up to try and get his mouth back where he wants it._

_“No baby, not this time. This time, you’re going to come inside me,” Freddie hears himself say. He climbs up into Auston’s lap and settles across his hips before Auston has a chance to recover and his hole is slick and open when he sinks down, like he must have opened himself up before they started. Freddie feels full as he sinks down, the sensation new and entirely welcome. He doesn’t breathe until his dream self is fully seated and neither does Auston._

_“Oh fuck, I’m going to die. I’m going to come, please don’t move,” Auston sobs. Freddie curses and rolls his hips experimentally._

_“You can come all you want, but I’m not going to stop,” Freddie hears himself say. He raises himself up and sinks back down on Auston’s cock, incredibly grateful that it matches the man it belongs to as it stretches him open._

_“Oh fuck.”_

Freddie wakes up with an orgasm ripping through him. He hasn’t come untouched or from a dream in years and his whole body shakes with it until he’s spent. He’s sticky and immediately hates it, but he stays where he is and replays the dream over and over again until he’s ready to get off again.

It takes approximately zero time for Mitch to start annoying him, which isn’t saying much because Mitch is naturally annoying—like a puppy. It comes to a head when they beat Detroit and everyone is celebrating in the locker room.

“If you don’t talk to him on your own, they’re going to stage an intervention and you’ll have to talk in front of everyone. I know you don’t want to out him or yourself, so make the right choice,” Mac says. It’s loud and his voice is soft, but he’s right beside Freddie and he knows he’s being heard. Freddie opens his mouth to say something, to ask what he’s talking about or how he knows, but nothing happens. Mac claps him on the shoulder and shrugs, “the bisexual part was easy, even if I hadn’t been able to tell he’s your soulmate. Talk to him Fred, for both of your sakes.”

And then, like everyone always does, Mac leaves without saying anything else. Freddie drops down into his stall like he doesn’t weigh two hundred pounds and scrubs at his face with both hands. Before he goes to shower, he texts Auston his address. After his shower he sends a second message, ‘ _please come, we need to talk.’_

Auston is sitting on the floor outside of Freddie’s door when he gets home and he’s not sure if he’s relieved, surprised, or disappointed to see him. He offers him a hand up and tries not to let Auston see two of the three emotions on his face.

“Sorry, I stopped to get food because I was hungry and I thought you would be too if you came by,” Freddie says, holding up the bag and shouldering the door to his apartment open. Auston—bless him—looks surprised that Freddie got him food, and Freddie thinks it’s stupid how sweet it looks on him.

“It smells amazing,” he says softly, closing the door for them and following Freddie and the food into the kitchen.

“I’m pretty sure I got your order right, but you’ll have to check it,” Freddie says, dropping all of his stuff and then going through the bag and sliding the food that belongs to Auston across the counter. Auston looks surprised again and Freddie isn’t sure if it’s left over from before or if it’s new because he wasn’t expecting Freddie to know what to get him.

“Thank you,” is all Auston says as he sits down and Freddie gets the distinct impression that he would like to curl up and hide.

“I’m not mad at you and I didn’t ask you to come over so that I could hurt your feelings,” Freddie says without looking up from the food on the counter in front of him. Auston makes an indistinct noise and shrugs, but it doesn’t come off the way he wants it to and Freddie can see the relief in his eyes.

“Why did you ask me to come?” he says when he’s finished chewing his first bite. He forces himself to look at Freddie directly for the first time and Freddie lets him search his face for a few seconds before he answers.

“The boys were planning some kind of intervention. I knew that if they forces us to talk while they were around, I might accidentally out you or myself and I didn’t want to risk that,” Freddie says. He doesn’t tell Auston that he has a plan for if he ever does get outed and he definitely doesn’t mention the plan for if Auston gets outed and he has to come out to support him. Auston swallows.

“Intervention? They know?” he asks, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Freddie hates that he looks afraid and bites back the urge to ask if that would be so bad, if their teammates knowing they were soulmates would really be the end of the world.

“Mac does somehow, but the rest of them are just tired of us being weird,” Freddie says, busying himself eating so he won’t be tempted to keep watching Auston. They talk while they eat, though not about what matters. They agree to be friends, which is more than Freddie ever expected he would have, so he doesn’t think to push for answer about the look on Auston’s face the day they met or ask why he doesn’t want him. Auston leaves a few hours later and as the door closes behind him, Freddie feels the ghost of a memory behind his eyes. He closes them briefly and sees a similar scene from a hundred different lifetimes, each time with him leaning against the door frame and kissing Auston before he leaves.


	4. Chapter 4

They’re in Detroit when Auston decides to let Freddie know that he is _not_ okay with watching his soulmate pick up—in so many words. Freddie’s at the bar, talking to a pretty brunette and flirting casually with the bartender when he makes his appearance. The bartender is attractive, with broad shoulders and pretty green eyes, and the girl has a sweet smile, but Freddie isn’t really expecting to take either of them home. The bartender—Cam—says something that makes Freddie laugh into his drink and the girl—Alex—throws her head back to laugh along, one manicured hand finding its way onto Freddie’s thigh without him every really realizing it.

“If your could not touch him, that would be awesome,” Auston says, shoving his way in between them and using his big ass to shove her barstool over so far that she almost ends up in the lap of the stranger next to her.

“Auston, what the fuck?” Freddie asks, eloquent as always. He apologises to Alex and the men beside her and when he turns his attention back on Auston, he’s flagged the bartender down and is ordering himself another drink.

“And that’s my soulmate right there, with the hair, so please don’t flirt with him. I will literally give you five hundred dollars to not even look at him when you give him his drinks,” Auston is saying. Freddie is flattered, kind of, and very, very offended.

“Auston, cut it out,” Freddie says, dragging him back away from the bar and giving him a firm push to put distance between them, “you don’t want me and I’m living with that, but you don’t get to embarrass me or be rude to anyone who talks to me.”

In the middle of Auston’s very drunken response, Patty appears out of nowhere and drags them both out of the bar by their arms. Freddie hadn’t noticed that they were drawing a crowd and he makes a mental note to thank him at a later date as he drags them out into the cold.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you two and I don’t know why you can’t seem to figure out that you both want the same fucking thing, but this is not the place for you to figure it out,” he says, arm raised to hail a taxi. He shoves them both into the back seat, gives the driver a hundred, and points a finger at Freddie, “take him back to the hotel and don’t say a word until you’re in your room. When you get there, be a man and tell him how you feel.”

“Patty is such a dad, I don’t know why he thinks we need to talk, we’re fiiiinnee,” Auston says as he stumbles into Freddie’s hotel room. Freddie locks the door and by the time he gets to Auston, he has flopped onto the bed and rolled onto his back.

“No, he’s right. We need to talk, I just wish you were sober for it,” Freddie says, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to figure out where to start. When he opens his eyes, Auston is up off of the bed and leaning in to kiss him. Freddie isn’t sure if it’s masochism or habit that brings his arms up around Auston’s waist, but the kiss is just as sweet as every other he remembers and he can’t help but let himself sink into it.

“If I was sober I wouldn’t be brave enough for this,” Auston says, tangling his fingers in Freddie’s hair and pulling him down into another kiss. Freddie feels himself melt and chases Auston’s mouth when he pulls back. They trade desperate kisses for just long enough that Freddie starts to relax and then when Auston tries to tug him down onto the bed, it’s like a bucket of cold water and he pulls himself back.

“No, Auston, no. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, leaning against the wall and staring at the ceiling to clear his head.

“Yeah, I get it, you don’t want me, I don’t know why I keep forgetting,” Auston says, heading for the door and looking like he’s on the verge of tears. Freddie catches him by the back of his sweatshirt at the last possible second and drags him in for another desperate kiss.

“Don’t ever say that again,” Freddie says against his mouth, hands gripping Auston’s hips far too hard. He pulls back to look at Auston’s face and makes a broken sound, “you think it’s true, don’t you? You really think I don’t want you?”

Auston nods miserably and Freddie wraps him up in a tight hug, pressing his face into Auston’s hair and breathing in the scent of him.

“Øjesten, I’m so sorry,” Freddie says, mostly to himself, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that was what you thought.”

“What I thought? Of course it’s what I thought, it’s the truth,” Auston says, sounding as miserable as he looks and pulling away from Freddie to stand in front of the balcony door with his arms folded.

“Auston, it’s not. It’s… We’re both idiots apparently,” Freddie says, taking a deep breath, “I have been looking for you my whole life. I’ve been dreaming of you since I was four years old and I never took the time to ask you what you needed our relationship to be and I’m sorry for that, but I love you and I have loved you for longer than I can tell you.”

“You… Say that again,” Auston says softly, turning around and looking at Freddie with big, wet eyes. Freddie blows the air out of his lungs and takes a step closer, distantly surprised by how sober Auston looks.

“I love you. I love you and I will always love you and I couldn’t stop loving you even if I tried. I can do friends, if you just want to be friends, or I can be more if you want that, but I can’t be a stranger any more. You’re finally here and I don’t want you to be a stranger.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Author is sick and would greatly appreciate both suggestions for what to write and corrections for any glaring mistakes that she may have missed because she is miserable.  
> Also, the Leafs lost and pissed off looks good on Frederik Andersen.

_“You’re still awake,” Auston says softly. His voice is creaky and thick from sleep, and there are creases on his face from his pillow. Freddie’s sitting at his desk—he knows it’s his because he’s been in this lifetime before—and their daughter is sleeping on the couch on her belly._

_“What time is it?” Freddie hears himself ask, slightly startled by Auston’s appearance. He drags his eyes away from his computer screen to glance at the clock and groans, reaching out to Auston and dragging him into his lap to wrap him up in a warm hug, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was that late. I didn’t want her to wake you up so I brought her in here when she woke up the first time and I completely lost track of time.”_

_“It’s okay, just come to bed,” Auston says softly, pressing his face into Freddie’s neck and curling up. Freddie smiles fondly and rocks back to hold Auston in his lap, wrapping his arms around his back and kissing his hair._

_“I would love to,” Freddie says after a few minutes. He reaches back to save the case notes on his computer and then shifts to stand up, taking Auston with him and kissing his forehead when he lets out a soft squeak of surprise. Freddie carries him to the couch and squats down, thighs working to support the weight of both of them so that Auston can pick their baby girl up and cradle her against his chest. She makes a soft noise and settles back down almost immediately, little hands fisted in Auston’s borrowed shirt and eyes immediately fluttering closed._

_The walk to their bedroom is shorter than Freddie remembers it being and it’s time to stop staring at his little family before he’s entirely ready. He puts Auston down on the bed and kisses him before he takes their little girl away and puts her down for the night. When he comes back to the bed, Auston’s watching him with a sleepy smile on his face and he lets himself be drawn in._

_“I love you,” Freddie says as he drapes himself over Auston. He presses him gently down into the bed and kisses his face until he gets the sleepy giggles he wants._

_“I know,” Auston says with a sweet smile. Freddie catches his hands and pins them gently on either side of his head so he can kiss him properly._

Freddie wakes up a little at a time and he’s just sort of floating between sleep and wakefulness when he feels someone move next to him. His eyes fly open and he remembers everything that happened the night before just as he realises that Auston is turning onto his side and looking at him.

“Good morning,” Auston says softly, looking embarrassed and like he’s expecting to be kicked out.

“Good morning,” Freddie echoes, not even trying to hide the smile on his face as he leans in to kiss the uncertainty off of Auston’s. Auston looks like he’s going to say something stupid, so Freddie drags him in and drapes himself over him, “can you never make me sleep alone again? Please?”

“Hey Aus?” Mitch says, sounding very uncertain and shifting back and forth in his socks.

“What? Do you have to pee or something?” Auston says without raising his head. Mitch makes what would be a convincingly offended noise if he weren’t basically still a toddler and rolls his eyes so hard that Auston can almost hear it.

“No, you jackass. I was just going to ask you if you knew if there was a reason Freddie showered at the speed of light and is standing three feet away with his hands in his pockets staring at you,” Mitch says, “no big deal.”

Auston snaps his head up immediately and looks at Freddie, hands hanging uselessly between his knees as he takes him in. He’s already showered and dressed, wearing sweats and a t-shirt that should in no way be attractive compared to how he looks in his game-day suits, but is. Auston swallows hard and takes a deep breath.

“Hey Mitch?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck off,” Auston says, jerking his head in the direction of literally anywhere else when Mitch just stares at him and ignoring the very boring sting of insults Mitch sends his way as he heads for the showers. Freddie doesn’t need an invitation after that, but he also looks like he’s in physical pain.

“Hey Aus,” he says, hesitating just in front of his knees and pushing his hands further into his pockets.

“Hey Fred, did you want something?” Auston says. _Please want something,_ Auston thinks.

“I was… I thought… Do you want to get dinner? With me? Like a date?” Freddie stutters, and for the first time Auston sees the shyness everyone is always telling him about. Auston laughs and doesn’t even try to hide the smile that spreads across his face.

“Yeah, I really would.”

“Aus?” Freddie calls, kicking his sneakers off and grabbing a Gatorade out of the fridge on his way through. When he doesn’t get an answer, he makes a face and heads for his bedroom, the last place he saw Auston before he hit the gym. He calls Auston’s name again and follows the sound of splashing water into the master bathroom.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home so fast,” Auston says with a soft smile. He reaches out for Freddie and pulls him in for a slow kiss.

“Your water is getting cold, are you ready to get out?” Freddie asks, sitting down on the side of the tub and scratches through Auston’s hair. He looks relaxed, surrounded by bubbles and warm air, and Freddie knows there’s a stupid look on his face but he doesn’t care.

“Can I help you clean up?” Auston asks, tugging on Freddie’s sweaty shirt and stretching his long legs out under the water. Freddie laughs and nods, reaching down to pull the plug to let the water drain and holding his hand out to help Auston up.

“We’ve done this before,” Auston says as he helps Freddie out of his workout clothes. Freddie lets himself be stripped, leaning in to steal little kisses every chance he gets and indulging Auston’s desire to touch him.

“Getting naked? I would say so,” Freddie laughs, pulling him in for a kiss and shaking his head.

“No. That isn’t what I meant. We’ve done this before, the thing where I help you shower,” Auston says, cheeks pink as he takes Freddie’s clothes to the hamper and turns the shower head on, “there was… you were a surgeon once and I used to help you shower at the end of your shifts."


	6. Chapter 6

_“Hey, stop. Stop, baby let me help you,” Freddie says, catching Auston’s hands and stilling them gently before he gets too frustrated._

_“They’re just sleeves, it shouldn’t be this hard,” Auston complains. Freddie doesn’t manage to contain his smile, but he does refrain from pointing out the noticeable whine in Auston’s voice as he unrolls the sleeves and smooths them out to start again._

_“It’s alright, Øjesten, you’re just nervous,” Freddie says, flashing a reassuring smile as he rolls Auston’s sleeves once, twice, and a third time. Auston sighs and Freddie does the other before he stands upright and looks him up and down._

_“Don’t do that, we don’t have the time for that,” Auston says, still whining a little and turning pink across the bridge of his nose._

_“Time for what, Øjesten? You look good, I’m just appreciating it,” Freddie says, smoothly dragging Auston in by his waist and giving him an indulgent kiss._

_“Appreciate it later when you can actually_ do _something about it, we have to go,” Auston says, laughing despite himself and letting Freddie pull him in for another kiss. They’re nearly late but Auston can’t seem to make himself regret it._

_Knock, knock, knock._ Freddie isn’t even out of the shower when he hears the door. He shouts at it and shuts the water off, grabbing two of the surprisingly fluffy hotel towels so he can wrap one around his waist and use the other to dry his hair on his way to the door. He doesn’t look before he opens it and Auston is pushing past him into the room almost before he registers his face.

“I thought you were going out with the guys,” and “you showered without me?” they say, their voices clashing and making them laugh. Auston presses in close and squeezes Freddie around the middle even though it means getting water on his clothes.

“I was and then I got there and I didn’t see you so I came back,” Auston says, kissing Freddie’s jaw and snagging the towel from his hands to help him dry his hair.

“I would have stayed up until you came back, you know that,” Freddie says, smiling stupidly and dipping his head to let Auston help without making him work too hard. Auston deems him hair dry enough after a few seconds and tosses the towel over Freddie’s shoulder into one of the bathroom’s sinks before he wraps his arms around Freddie’s neck and pulls him down into a kiss.

“Yeah, but then I would have been tipsy and you would have refused to touch me,” Auston pouts, pressing himself against Freddie and breathing him in, “you always smell better when you don’t shower at the arena. I like it.”

“Thank you. Are you hoping I’ll decide to touch you now? You know, since you’re sober,” Freddie teases, tucking a strand of Auston’s hair behind his ear and cupping his cheek.

“Of course you’re going to touch me, I look good,” Auston says, simultaneously cocky and hopeful. Freddie laughs and kisses him, not even bothering to pull back and look as he slides his hands down and gives his ass a squeeze.

“Yeah, Aus. You do.”

“So you’re like… a thing, right? Like an official couple?” Mitch says, and Auston looks at him like he’s an idiot, because he is.

“Of course we are, but what are you? Twelve?” Auston says, shoving at him and ignoring his indignant squawking in favour of scoring on him.

“I just didn’t know if you’d talked about it is all, like agreed not to sleep with other people and decided to be like, official,” Mitch says, recovering and focusing hard on the game. Auston keeps playing but barely and his stomach turns violently until Mitch finally shoves him over and hits him with a pillow, “go.”

“Go where? Get off of me,” Auston says, pushing at Mitch until he can sit back up.

“Go see him. You look like you’re going to puke, so go talk to him,” Auston starts to object but Mitch rolls his eyes and kicks back to keep playing alone, clearly not willing to budge. Auston thanks him and is up and shoving his feet into his shoes before he knows it.

 _I’m coming over_ , he texts Freddie, only realizing he should give him a heads up when he’s already halfway there. Freddie responds after a few minutes and Auston reads it at the stoplight just outside his building.

_I’m here. Everything okay?_

“No, everything is not okay you beautiful bastard man,” Auston says, throwing his phone into the passenger seat and turning into the parking garage so aggressively that his tires screech dreadfully on the wet pavement. He gets looks from the few people on the street but doesn’t feel the slightest bit apologetic, so he just keeps on going. He parks and rides the elevator to Freddie’s floor with a storm cloud over his head that could easily turn into a storm. When he knocks on Freddie’s door, he gets a surprised curse and a series of ungraceful crashing sounds in answer and it makes him feel a little bit better.

“Were you already here when you text me?” Freddie says when he opens the door. He’s smiling and Auston’s heart jumps when he sees it. He knows that he has things to say, but he decides he deserves a minute and immediately presses himself against Freddie’s chest, rubbing his face against the old sweatshirt material and breathing him in.

“What’s wrong, Aus?” Freddie asks, taking a small step back so he can close the door without hitting either of them and then wrapping his arms around Auston’s middle to give him the squeeze he’s obviously looking for.

“Mitch is stupid,” Auston says unhelpfully, then sighs heavily and closes his eyes, “actually he’s really smart and that’s what’s stupid. And he asked me if we were like… a thing, like had we decided to actually date and not sleep with other people and I said yes, but then I realized we didn’t and the whole way over here I kept imagining you with other people and it made me sick and I wanted to be mad at you or something but then I saw you and I just…”

“Hey Aus?” Freddie says softly, using one hand to tilt Auston’s head back and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, “breathe.”

“I’m fine,” Auston says, blowing all the air out of his lungs and shaking his head.

“I’m not, you know,” Freddie says, watching Auston’s face scrunch up in confusion and pressing the pad of his thumb to the wrinkle between his eyebrows, “sleeping with anyone else. I would have told Mitch we were a couple too, if he’d asked me.”


End file.
